


Bee-ified Pimpmobile

by CynicalMistrust



Category: Supernatural
Genre: "Post series", Castiel and Bees, Castiel in the Bunker, Castiel's Car, Fluff, M/M, Men of Letters Bunker, Supernatural Writing Challenge November 2015
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-23
Updated: 2015-11-23
Packaged: 2018-05-02 23:35:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5268083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CynicalMistrust/pseuds/CynicalMistrust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas' car is finally found and he has an interesting request for its repairs. And for Dean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bee-ified Pimpmobile

**Author's Note:**

> SPN Writing Challenge response. 
> 
> Prompt was "car".

Dean spent an hour after they got Cas’ car back in the bunker just looking it over. They’d finally come across a report of an abandoned vehicle matching its description and picked it up from the ditch it’d been sitting in. The front looked like it’d been run into a pole, the headlights and brake lights all smashed, two tires slashed, and a couple busted windows. Metatron or vandals, likely both, had done a number on the vehicle, but one of the worst was the fact the seats had all been slashed to pieces and smelled like someone had pissed all over them.

He’d restored Baby from worse condition, and the Continental needed a major overhaul at any rate. It would take time, and with the world safe again, all they had was time.

Sam came in with Cas behind him, handing over a beer and looking over the car with a grimace.

Cas sighed from between them. “Dean, there’s no use restoring it from this condition. The smell will never come out.”

Dean glanced at Cas and knew by the look on his face he hoped there was something they could do. “I’m not giving up yet, and neither should you.” He grabbed his notepad and looked over his list of what they’d need so far. “The engine needs some tuning and pretty sure the fan belt and transmission need replaced from the sounds it was making. We’ll gut the insides; you want authentic or updated?”

Cas eyed Dean a long moment before tilting his head. “What do you suggest?”

“It’s your car, Cas.” Dean shifted to lean back against the side of the car, taking a drink of his beer. “If there’s any changes you want made, now is the time to do it since it’s trashed anyway. We can probably even do leather seats with warmers if you want some luxury,“ he said with a smirk. If Cas was going to be riding a pimpmobile, it may as well have the comforts of one. "It’ll need a new paint job, too.” He shrugged and made a few more notes.

Sam snorted and took a sip of his own beer. “Could even make it look like a bee,” he said under his breath.

“What?”

“What?” Dean mentally cursed his brother for saying that aloud.

“Could you? Make it look like a bee?” Cas looked between the two of them and Sam at least had the audacity not to look too amused. That didn’t save him from Dean’s glare.

Dean wanted to say no, tell Cas grown men didn’t ride around in pimped out rides unless they were pimps, much less ones resembling asshole insects, but Cas had one of those smiles on his face. The smile that was barely there, like he was afraid to get his hopes up about something that sounded too good to be true. Dean didn’t have it in him to crush that hope, not when it was such a rare commodity for them.

“Sure.”

The answering smile was far wider, almost blinding in its rarity, and he supposed it would be worth it to bee-ify Cas’ ride if it meant seeing more of those.

* * *

The next week saw Dean all but living in the garage of the bunker. If he wasn’t sleeping or showering, he could be found ripping out upholstery to burn or half-swallowed under the hood of the car, sometimes with a sandwich or burrito in one hand. He hadn’t even dragged Cas to the junk yard or auto shops yet as he worked to find exactly what all needed replaced so they could make as few trips as possible. He had, however, pointed Cas to a website to look at seat replacements and was glad when he’d chosen something dark over the original tan faux leather. He suspected Sam was to thank for that, but at least maybe there was a chance in getting his ride looking half-way presentable, though he’d also chosen a black and yellow steering-wheel cover and a bee charm for the rearview mirror.

“Dean?”

Dean grunted around the wrench between his teeth and wheeled himself out from under the car. He glanced up at Cas, raising an eyebrow and pulling the wrench free. “What’s up, Cas? Find something else to deck your car out with?” He sat up with a groan as his back protested, snatching a rag to wipe at the grease covering his hands and arms up to his elbows.

“No. I was hoping I could help.”

Dean glanced up in surprise before he grinned. Cas had been showing more of himself lately between his Netflix binges, especially when he or Sam were in the bunker and tired of having their eyes glued to the TV. “Yeah?”

“Yes. It’s my car, after all. I’d like to know more than just the basics.”

“Alright. I’m just about done gutting it. Want to join me in raiding some junkyards?”

Cas hesitated, looking torn, and Dean stifled an inward sigh. Cas was still reluctant to leave the bunker sometimes, especially if he’d spent more than a few days inside.

Dean finished wiping up what he could of the grease staining his skin and tossed the rag aside. “Or how about I pick up what we need and you can go finish watching _Reign_ with Sam?”

Cas let out a breath, seeming disappointed and relieved. “Alright.”

It was still early, and Dean knew he was stalling at this point, reluctant to start actual repair work since it would bring him that much closer to the finish of his project. He wasn’t sure why it should bother him. Cas had made it clear he wanted to stay with them; having his car back wouldn’t change that, would it?

* * *

When Dean returned for what seemed the fiftieth time the past few days, it was already late and he was starving. He headed to Sam’s room to see if he and Cas had eaten yet, words falling silent in his throat as he noticed they were passed out.

Sam’s laptop was tipping off his lap, his torso leaning the other way, towards the center of the bed. Dean snorted quietly and stepped inside, making just enough noise not to sound suspicious as he picked up the computer and set it aside before it could fall. He reached for the covers to pull over them and when he glanced to Cas where his head rested against Sam’s chest, he found half-lidded blue eyes watching him.

“Shit, Cas. Thought you were sleeping.” Dean dropped the blanket, trying to breathe steadily around the sudden thudding of his heartbeat, wondering why he felt like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t.

“I don’t sleep.”

“Resting your eyes then.” Dean straightened, running a hand through his hair. “Suppose you don’t want food then either?” He headed back for the door, stopping when Cas’ warm fingers closed around his wrist.

“You could rest with us.”

Dean glanced to the empty space of the bed behind Cas with a slight frown. He didn’t remember Sam’s bed being that big. He was fairly certain it hadn’t been memory foam either. When had Sam gotten a new bed without him noticing? He looked back down at Cas, to the fingers on his wrist, and when Cas gave a subtle tug, he found himself giving in and stretching out on the other side of the bed. He wasn’t that hungry anyway.

Cas turned and rested his head next to Dean’s on the pillow. “Dean.”

Dean swallowed as he felt the tingles of Cas’ breath against his ear, the way the throaty sound of Cas’ voice caused warmth to pool in his gut. He turned his head, immediately losing all sense of time as he stared into too-blue eyes. He stiffened in surprise as Cas pressed into him, a hand sliding up his arm and into his hair. “Cas?”

“Stop avoiding me.” There was an edge to Cas’ voice, reminiscent of their first days of knowing each other.

Dean wasn’t given the chance to respond even if he’d known how to. Cas’ lips followed the example of his body and pressed against his own. Whatever shock that filled him was washed away a moment later by a different kind of hunger, and the sensation of finally getting something he’d subconsciously wanted for years. His fingers threaded into Cas’ hair and he kissed back with a soft, needy growl, thrusting his tongue past Cas’ lips. A deeper moan of surprise escaped him when Cas _sucked_ on it, hips grinding forward in search of friction.

“Really? In _my_ bed?” Sam sounded half-asleep, but the annoyance was clear.

Dean pulled away with a start, licking his lips and finding he was reluctant to remove his hands from Cas’ hair and face.

Sam stretched out and wrapped an arm around Cas, pressing his face into the dark hair with a yawn. “It’s Thursday. He’s mine for the night.”

“What?” Dean glanced between the two in confusion, jerking his hand away when Sam bit his finger.

“We made a schedule when you were pissing away your time in the garage. He’s mine on Thursday, Sunday, and Monday. Yours on Friday, Saturday, and Tuesday. Wednesday he does what he wants.”

Dean continued staring, his brain not quite catching up to the situation. “What?”

Sam huffed into Cas’ hair. “Told you.”

Cas elbowed Sam and ignored the bite to his ear as he watched Dean. “I should have spoken to you about this sooner-”

Dean held up his hand before rolling back off the bed, rubbing at his face. “Wait just a… Sammy, you’re really okay with this?”

Sam shrugged. “Why not? It might work.”

Might work. He had barely entertained the fantasy that Cas might be it for him, and here Sam was perfectly okay with… with sharing him? Were they really that messed up? Where was the codependency going to end? He thought they were trying to move past that since that was what always got the world into so much trouble. Cas wasn’t exactly batting a thousand either. “And if it doesn’t?” Who in their right mind would think three fuck-ups could make something like this work?

Sam shrugged again. “Then it doesn’t, Dean. But I’m not going to live in fear of trying something that might make me happy anymore.” He yawned and tugged his pillow under his head. “And right now, sleep would make me happy.”

“Think about it, Dean.”

Dean stared at Cas a long moment, licking his lips and wanting to steal another kiss, but it was a lot to think about. Too much to take in on an empty stomach.

* * *

Once he set his mind to it, it only took another two weeks to finish Cas’ car. Working with his hands helped clear his head and let him process what happened subconsciously. The only difference he noticed was an almost instant erection when Cas joined him in the garage to help. Neither of them spoke of the offer and he was glad Cas seemed to know he needed the chance to consider it.

He taught Cas about engines and transmissions and sanding instead. When they got to the point of the paint job, Cas decided on black with two yellow racing stripes from bumper to bumper. It wasn’t as terrible as Dean had expected and he was relieved he didn’t have to alternate black and yellow stripes all the way down the body.

When all was said and done, the car looked and ran a hundred times better than it had before. He’d even made sure to add a kill switch and revamp the trunk to allow Cas a hidden stash of weapons.

Dean looked up with a grin when Cas came in for the big reveal, leaning against the side and giving another circular wipe of the rag where he’d been waxing. “What do you think?”

Cas opened the driver door and sank into the seat, gripping the steering wheel with a look of pleasure and content. “I think I could kiss you.”

Dean sucked in a breath, gut twisting with want and desire that had been lurking just on the edge of awareness for days. Months. _Years_. “Shit, Cas.” It didn’t matter if it was a strange setup. Sam was right. They couldn’t be afraid to do things that could make them happy. 

Cas looked up, the corners of his eyes crinkling in amusement. He climbed out of the car, standing in front of Dean, pushing him back to sit against the side of the hood, just enough Dean had to look up for once. “Thank you, Dean.”

Dean swallowed, a half-smile curving his lips. He rested his hands on Cas’ hips, tugging him closer. He leaned up so their lips were almost touching. “What day is it?”

“Friday.”

His smile widened into a grin. “What do you say we christen your new car?”


End file.
